Page 63 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

“Have her do so, and then join us. I’ll keep our guests occupied till then.”

Jean enjoyed the relish in her tone. She hadn’t appreciated Miss Wandrell’s prying questions.

• • •

Benjamin leaned back in his chair and watched his new houseguest chat with Mrs. Wandrell and her daughter, Anna. He’d once seen an exhibition in Spain where men evaded charging bulls with the grace of lethal dancers. He hadn’t much cared for the outcome there, but in Mrs. Thorpe’s case, he could fully appreciate an expert at work. She seemed to answer every probe his nosy neighbors threw out. And yet she gave them no real information at all. Smiling, gracious, she didn’t appear to notice the resulting frowns.

It was relaxing, Benjamin thought, to watch Mrs. Thorpe at work. Whoever she was, she had the manner of a princess. Even Mrs. Wandrell, so sour and satirical, was clearly impressed. Alice had never managed them so deftly.

The drawing room door opened, and Miss Saunders came in. The sudden sight of her made Benjamin’s heart skip a beat. He hid his reaction, or hoped he did, by rising and offering her his chair. This allowed him to move a bit farther from the center of the action.

It wasn’t just her beauty, he thought. After a while, the impact of beauty lessened. A man became accustomed to it, in a way. But he’d learned that Jean Saunders was so much more than pretty.

She didn’t look at him. He felt a pang of disappointment. He’d wanted to glimpse that coppery sparkle in her brown eyes and know that she appreciated the scene before him as much as he did.

“Mrs. Wandrell, allow me to introduce my charge to you,” said Mrs. Thorpe. “This is Miss Jean Saunders.”

Miss Saunders dropped a curtsy. She might have been any demure young lady in the care of a chaperone. Even her glossy brown curls had been smoothed and tamed—rather a shame, Benjamin thought. However, he knew that whatever thoughts were going through her head, they were not those of the ingénue she was playing.

Miss Saunders sat down. So did Benjamin.

The ladies were a marked contrast, he thought. The Wandrells, with their pale hair and eyes, their ferret-like manner, seemed one sort of creature. Opposite them, Mrs. Thorpe and Miss Saunders were all warmth and restraint. Benjamin met his uncle’s eyes across the room and saw that he’d noticed it, too. A small secret smile danced in his gaze, Benjamin noted.

“How are you related to Miss Saunders?” Mrs. Wandrell asked, going for the blunt question this time. She’d tried to get information about Mrs. Thorpe’s antecedents in several ways so far, and failed.

“I think of her as an honorary niece.”

“Honorary?” The caller examined them.

“It is indeed an honor,” said Miss Saunders, effortlessly falling in with Mrs. Thorpe’s ploy. “I have no aunts of my own. Have you, Miss Wandrell?”

Their younger visitor blinked. “Yes. Two.”

“How fortunate. Do they live nearby?”

“No.”

“But how did you becomehonorary?” asked Mrs. Wandrell, curiosity driving her to the edge of rudeness.

Mrs. Thorpe gave her a look. Benjamin admired the nuance layered into it—surprise, reproof, indulgence. The lady shrugged with consummate grace. “What are the usual ways?” she replied. “Long acquaintance, similar interests, warm regard.”

“I am an orphan,” said Miss Saunders, her timing perfect.

“But a member of Lord Furness’s family?” said Mrs. Wandrell. “I believe he told my daughter so.”

“Alice was my cousin.”

Second cousin, or third, or something of the sort, Benjamin recalled from an earlier conversation. The clock on the mantel chimed the half hour. Benjamin suppressed a smile. Alice had placed the timepiece there to admonish callers who lingered too long. Mrs. Thorpe responded with a subtle change in posture that nearly caused Benjamin to rise and depart. The lady was that forceful.

Mrs. Wandrell stood. As did her daughter.

“So kind of you to call,” Mrs. Thorpe murmured as they took their leave. She then gathered up Miss Saunders and swept away, leaving the two men alone in the drawing room.

“What a splendid woman,” said Benjamin.

“Mrs. Thorpe is a…temporary solution,” his uncle replied. “You’d better get about your wooing.”

“I have a plan.”

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